Hi, Folks -

I was able to walk down to the EMT ambulance so no need to have me on a gurney at that point. At the street they did the maneuver now made famous by a few TV shows, the "Georgia Street" lift - one guy takes hold of you from behind, bringing his hands under your arms and together at or just below the chest, while another one lifts your legs from about the ankle. That puts the patient off-balance and makes it fairly easy, unless the patient is truly obese and heavy or aggressively uncooperative, to move the patient from standing to sitting/lying on a gurney.

After a fairly bumpy ride we were at the ED (Emergency Department) of the hospital. I stayed on the gurney, half-sitting, watching the comings-and-goings as they did their intake procedures and tried to decide what to do with me next. Everyone in view was masked. They moved me here and there according to what they wanted to check on, test,or just ask about. One ER doc was particularly convivial; some conversation showed him to be pretty open-minded - I think the past few years must have shaken loose the absoluteness of faith and belief in the infallibility of various systems, the medical system quite particularly. His eyebrows were expressive; I commented on that. :)

At one point they took me for a 'road test', walking me around in the area to see how physically capable I was and also how easily I might become winded. During that walk I spotted the convivial doctor sitting at a computer. He was masked but I recognized him when he raised his eyebrows in greeting as I walked by. :)

So, why was I here? Swollen feet and ankles, plus huffing and puffing with only mild exertion; plus, a very enlarged prostate with intermittent "urine retention" to such a degree that either an ER visit or self-catheterization can be necessary. Well past my usual bedtime and I think 7 hours on my back on a gurney in the ED, I found I needed to urinate. I asked if there was a restroom nearby. There was, but, the nurse said, their practice for the patient workflow in that area of the ED was to provide a urinal, which she did. Not surprisingly (to me) that did me no good; try though I might, nothing was happening. I advised that catheterization might be necessary.

The nurse then went off in search of a 'bladder scan' setup, which made me mentally shudder, as this was reminiscent of an earlier time in this same ED which featured the most excruciating pain I've known to date, during a near-endless wait for someone to please help me! Apparently there's a standard of practice not to catheterize based solely on the fact your patient is moaning and literally writhing in pain. Only if a bladder scan shows he or she is retaining 250 milliliters or more in his/her bladder can you proceed to insert the catheter (which is a flexible tube of certain size, length, and construction) through the urethra (yes, folks, for guys that means up the penis) to provide an exit point for that retained urine. The patient may then discover his whole body had been tensed up throughout the ordeal, as it now can and does relax.

The nurse found the scan setup and did the scan and found there was a _lot_ of urine being retained in the bladder. I'm not sure now, but it's possible she then had to go somewhere to find a cath kit (more waiting). Finally I think it was the other nurse in the room who took the action that provided the blessed relief. She reported she had drained at least 700 (might have been 900, not clear to me now) milliliters of urine. I told that nurse she was my hero. :)

Finally they moved me to 'my' room. Part 3 coming soon ...

--hobie